True Loyalty
by Citywriter84
Summary: Resentful of Umbridge's persecution of Harry, Hermione decides that enough is enough and that she will confront Dumbledore about it. It turns out that the Death Eaters want Hermione to leave Harry forever and have even offered her a scholarship to Beauxbatons to get her out of his life. Hermione instead plans to take Harry with her to a new school where they can start afresh.
1. Chapter 1

**Increasing Injustice**

Hermione waited for poor Harry until past midnight. The common room fire had died down, and only glimmering embers remained. Hermione's foot rustled through the detritus of crumpled parchments, used quills and sweet wrappers that the other Gryffindors had left behind that evening. Ron had been waiting for Harry too, but he had fallen asleep hours ago and now lay sprawled over one of the squashy armchairs. Harry had been subjected to detentions with Umbridge on a nightly basis. But these were no ordinary detentions. Umbridge had forced Harry to use a blood quill on his own hand. A dark magical object, most likely borrowed from Lucius Malfoy, the quill carried a curse that cut into the flesh of anyone who tried to write with it and channelled their blood onto the parchment.

Hermione had really wanted Harry to complain about this, but Gryffindor House was a clique with its own strange rules. The Gryffindors believed that bravery was what mattered. Harry had got it into his head that it would be a show of weakness or cowardice to complain about Umbridge's cruelty and flatly refused to tell McGonagall or Dumbledore. Probably McGonagall did not have any power over Umbridge, but Dumbledore should! Wasn't he supposed to be the greatest wizard in the land? Shouldn't he act like it?

Harry came trudging miserable in, his green eyes downcast, his black hair dishevelled. He had wrapped his hand in a scarf that was now stained with blood. Hermione stood and led him to a pair of armchairs around one of the little round tables, on which stood a small bowl of murtlap essence. Harry gratefully lowered his bleeding hand into the bowl.

"You really should tell Dumbledore," said Hermione, not wishing to beat about the bush. "This is the kind of thing he should care about."

"The only part of me Dumbledore cares about is my scar," said Harry sullenly, not meeting her eye. Why couldn't he look at her? She was beginning to feel so wretched. She would have to do something. But what?

"I care," she whispered in his ear. "You must know that I'll always be here."

* * *

When Hermione went up to her dormitory she found the other four Gryffindor girls were sitting in a small circle, a silvery lunar lamp hovering just above them, lighting up their faces with its pale glow. Lavender was telling the other three ghost stories or something similar. Hermione smiled to herself. In Gryffindor it was normal to try and prove you did not scare easily. Lavender was the gifted story teller in their dorm, but her stories were often not to Hermione's tastes.

Lavender had widened her blue eyes for dramatic effect as she recited in a hushed voice; "And so, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named created Infestix! An abomination that should never have been. Made from a pile of muggle corpses plied with the darkest of dark magic. The horror had the head of a cockroach, hard and black as obsidian, with constantly grinding mandibles and grotesquely bulging compound eyes…"

The four of them glanced round as Hermione entered the dorm.

"Look who's been making out with Harry 'til one in the morning," said Shirley, one of the four, pushing her long black hair away from her face, "Lavender was telling us about the last time You-Know-Who campaigned. Do you still think your boyfriend is right and that he's back again?"

If only Harry really were her boyfriend. They were as close as they could be without being an item, but it was Cho Harry liked.

"Shirley…" cautioned Carly, another of the four.

"You're interrupting the story, isn't it?" said Parvati Patil severely, frowning at Hermione, "and Lavender tells it so well."

"Well practice makes perfect," said Lavender, brushing her long blond hair away from her face.

"But Hermione really prefers the muggle kinds of entertainment – like Sky TV, with its hundred or so channels, isn't that right Hermione?" said Shirley, her black eyes glinting, "no doubt she has no time for story-telling."

"Really Hermione, you should not be such a snob," scolded Parvati.

Hermione had learned that she shouldn't try arguing with them. Shirley was too good at making trouble for that to end well. She raised her hands in a placatory gesture.

"I'm sorry to barge in so late, but Harry is really not well at the moment and I had to stay up in the common room with him."

Carly looked concerned. "What's happened, Hermione?" she asked, cocking her head to one side.

"Ssh! Don't talk about it!" said Shirley in a stage whisper, waggling her index finger beside her head, "it's to do with all the media attention."

"How dare you!" said Hermione, feeling her temper rising despite herself.

"Indeed! You shouldn't back bite. Harry is in our house and we should try to be his friend," said Carly.

"If you're loyal he might actually learn your name," said Shirley with a sneer. Carly's round face flushed.

"All this arguing is putting me off," said Lavender, "thanks a bunch, Hermione."

Grumbling, the girls got ready for bed. Hermione felt she really needed to talk to someone about Harry's trouble however and waited until Carly had finished in the bathroom. After a while Carly emerged. She had slathered her face with a thick, green paste as a beauty aide.

"Carly, I need to talk about Harry," said Hermione, wringing her hands together.

"Of course," said Carly and they sat on the side of Carly's bed.

"It's these detentions with Umbridge…" Hermione began and she told Carly about Umbridge's crime with the blood quill. Carly's blue eyes widened at the mention of a blood quill and then she looked thoughtful, running her delicate fingers through her mop of chestnut curls.

"Harry should tell Dumbledore, but he won't. I-I want to tell Dumbledore myself," said Hermione, "it's this idea that Harry has that he can't be seen as a coward. I'm going to see if Dumbledore will stop it."

Carly's green face was thoughtful for a moment. "You know of course that Umbridge is reporting to the Ministry," she said, "I don't think even Dumbledore has power over them. He's come down a very long way. His influence at the Ministry is over. I know he used to be Head of the Wizengamot. We consider that to be the second most important position after the Minister."

"I know, I read about it years ago," said Hermione.

"But now he's been demoted," said Carly. "I've a feeling that Umbridge can get away with it."

"But I can't bear just doing nothing!" said Hermione, feeling frustration rise in her.

"No no," said Carly, hastily patting her shoulder. "By all means try telling Dumbledore, just don't be disappointed if it does no good."

* * *

The next morning as Hermione went down to the common room to meet Harry, the sound of a riot rose up the tower steps to greet her. She opened the oaken door to the common room and saw the Gryffindors gathered in a circle around Ginny and Cormac McLaggen.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" roared the Gryffindors.

"Ready to taste my bat bogey hex, McLaggen?" said Ginny, with a somewhat unsettling grin, "think your high connections in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement can help you here?"

"Ginny! I'm a prefect and I can't allow fighting," called Hermione.

But the Gryffindors simply booed Hermione. Shirley, who was standing nearby, elbowed her in the ribs. "Can't you see it's going to get interesting? Look at that mad gleam in Ginny's eye! I've never seen her like this."

When had Ginny suddenly got like this? Hermione remembered that the previous year she had seemed like a mild mannered girl – at the world cup she had actually found watching Quidditch to be too rough for her. And suddenly she was an aggressive girl with a mucus fixation? And her clothes – she wasn't wearing Hogwarts robes, but an elegant black dress that hugged her form rather more tightly than Hermione thought appropriate. How could this have happened? She had never tried to stand out before.

There was a flash and Ginny's bat bogey hex flapped into the air. McLaggen blasted it with his hex, causing it to explode and shower him with mucus. He made a disgusted sound and then Ginny pounced on him, wrestling him to the ground.

"Submit, or I'll have my way with you!" she shrieked, grabbing McLaggen by the pants.

"Ginny, stop!" cried Hermione, but her voice was drowned out by the general uproar.

"I submit, just get off!" said McLaggen.

Ginny stood up. "You should have been glad that someone like me took an interest in you," she said, twirling around so that her fiery hair fanned out around her like that of a veela.

Ginny might sound conceited, but Hermione was observant and could tell if another girl was attractive. It didn't seem fair… she was perfect in all respects. Fiery red hair, bright brown eyes, a bold, freckled face, her whole body lithe and graceful. Hermione glanced at Ron who was watching the scene. Ron on the other hand was not perfect. He was of lanky build, with awkward features and appeared gangling and clumsy. Was Ginny truly his sister? Molly had boasted to her just before their third year that she had conceived Bill by enslaving a handsome muggle with a love potion. This kind of depravity was considered perfectly acceptable in the magical world, however creepy it might seem for a middle aged mother to be giggling about a potion that turned people into lust fuelled zombies. Perhaps Ginny had been conceived in such a way as well.

Many of the Gryffindors surrounded Ginny and congratulated her. She was giving out fragments of parchment. "Invitations to a party I'm holding in the dungeons," she called, "a way of showing that we won't lie down and take orders from an old hag like Umbridge."

"I'm not sure if this is a good idea…." said Hermione.

"What are you going to do, put us all in dentention?" jeered Shirley, who had just taken an invitation.

Harry came pushing his way through the crowd. "Don't talk to Hermione in that tone," he warned, "we're both going. We don't let Umbridge scare us."

"OK then Harry, I'll go with you," said Hermione. She took one of Ginny's slips of parchment. The words 'Madness and Mayhem Rave,' were emblazoned on it, along with a lion's skull with bat's wings. Ever tasteful, those Weasleys.

* * *

Hermione was determined to confront Dumbledore about the problems Harry was having and after Arithmancy, she hurried to the entrance to Dumbledore's tower.

The gargoyles barred her way, solid stone and immovable.

But Hermione remembered how Harry had said that the passwords usually revolved around sweets.

"Sherbert lemon, cockroach cluster, liquorice snaps," she recited. One of the gargoyles moved. It's gaping mouth contorted even further in what she feared might be a sneer.

"That bossy girl wants to get past us," said the other gargoyle in a reedy voice, "well get past this!"

The gargoyle struck the wall and at once, the stone appeared to bubble and stretch and a hideous stone creature pushed its way through. It was like a hideous stone dragon with two heads, one emitted a continuous, grinding shriek and the other cackled with hollow laughter. It shuffled towards her, its stone jaws snapping. But Hermione already knew that a spell that animated stone temporarily could be countered by a spell of lightness. She did actually read and do her homework, after all.

"Natare!" she cried, pointing her wand at the hideous thing. It froze in place. The second gargoyle gave a sigh.

"Alright, Miss bossy boots, you can bother the head if you want. A lot of good may it do you."

The gargoyles stood aside and the door to the tower swung open. Hermione found herself on a spiral staircase that revolved round and round, like an escalator, until she reached the top of the tower and stood by a highly polished oak door, with a brass knocker shaped like a griffin. Hermione rapped three times with the griffin knocker and the door swung open. She emerged in a beautiful, circular room, with various silvery instruments, whirring and puffing on spindly tables. The portraits of formed heads covering the walls, muttered gravely about intruders and upstarts. Behind the door, a magnificent red and gold bird the size of a swan dozed on its perch, its head on its wing. Dumbledore himself sat at a high backed chair behind an oaken desk, dressed as always in purple, star spangled robes. He was what Hermione would have called a moderately entertaining, but utterly generic white haired old mentor from muggle literature. He had a long silver beard which, despite its size was always immaculate.

He peered at Hermione from above his half-moon spectacles, those light blue eyes seemed to penetrate her mind. Hermione knew he was performing Legilmency on her, but didn't care too much. He should know what was on her mind.

"My dear girl, it is fortunate that you stopped by," said Dumbledore.

"Indeed it is professor," said Hermione.

"I know you come with a matter of grave importance," said the headmaster, "you have received an offer of a scholarship that is certainly bait offered by a Death Eater?"

"What?" said Hermione surprised, "I mean, sorry Professor, but I knew nothing about that."

"Ah my dear girl, although the Ministry is in denial, we both know that Voldemort operates among us once more. And what better way for him to harm Harry than for you to be removed from his life? That is why the Death Eaters wrote this," Dumbledore waved a sheaf of rolled parchment at her, "a scholarship, the terms of which are that you should attend Beauxbatons, all expenses paid and with a generous allowance and that the school in France receive a munificent donation – all on the condition that Harry cannot attend with you. Even if I had not traced this back to Lucius Malfoy, it would still seem remarkably suspicious, would it not?"

"Indeed it would," said Hermione. "I will stick by Harry through thick and thin. And I wanted to tell you something, headmaster. Umbridge has been using a blood quill on Harry. In the detentions she gave him, she forced him to cut into his own flesh and write in his blood. She should go to Azkaban."

Dumbledore sighed, "ah Miss Granger, how well I know."

"You knew?" said Hermione. "Couldn't you have stopped her?"

"I have no power to overrule the Minister for Magic," said Dumbledore. "And this had best be kept a secret, for if Minerva knew, she would be furious and protest, despite the fact that this would get her in considerable trouble."

"You want to keep this a secret?" said Hermione in disbelief. Carly had been right to caution her. Dumbledore didn't seem to care.

Hermione did not let herself get agitated. She averted her gaze so that Dumbledore couldn't use legilmency on her and learn her thoughts. She would have to find a solution herself. She would not leave Harry, but perhaps they could find another school that would take them both.

 _ **Author's Note** : Which school does Hermione have in mind? Find out in the next chapter. Also featuring Ginny's madness and mayhem party.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Party Until Dawn**

 _ **Author's Note:** I am aware that Ginny is acting lustier than she did in book five. JKR's characerisation of her throughout the series was ludicrously inconsistent, so in canon she has at least three different personalities at different times. I have attempted to write an explanation for this into later chapters. Dumbledore is of course not being entirely truthful with Hermione when he pleads helplessness._

 _On a different topic, I'm afraid I've been having trouble with this fanfic not updating on in the updated sections, even despite my adding this chapter, so I hhave uploaded this chapter a second time._

* * *

Hermione did research on different European schools for magic, but without the internet, she had to use the library and could not always find up to date source material. Still, she narrowed the list down to a few within a week. Now all that remained was to send of applications.

* * *

The venue for Ginny's party was deep in the dungeons, far below the potions dungeon, deep in the very bowles of the castle where a damp chill hung in the air. She and Harry walked hand in hand down the stone corridors that were in a state of near darkness – lit only by the ghostly light of the glowstones set into the walls at intervals. Ron stumbled and staggered along after them, almost slipping in the shallow pools of water.

Eventually they heard a rushing sound and crossed a stone bridge that spanned an underground stream. "Careful Ron, the bridge is slippery," called Hermione as hurried after them.

Sure enough, Ron slipped, but Harry was there to stop him falling in the stream. A blunt, pale serpentine head, with glassy black sightless eyes lunged out of the dark water to snap at him. Ron yelled with shock and Hermione gave a little cry.

"That horrible fish almost had you there, mate," said Harry as he yanked Ron back onto the bridge.

Hermione could feel her heart really thumping. "Be more careful, Ron, just don't fall, OK?" she said weakly. "Why Ginny thought this was a good place for a party I can't imagine."

"My little sis hasn't been herself lately, I think," said Ron as they trudged through a dank stone passage and into a cavernous dungeon, lit by glowing gemstones that gleamed from the overhanging stalactites. A number of Gryffindors were already here and the twins overheard Ron.

"Well we're no longer ashamed that she's related to us," said Fred, clapping Ron over hard on the back so that he staggered, "so that just leaves you and Percy, little bro."

"We do want you to try harder to be like us, Ron," said George. "Try to cause more trouble, like Harry does."

Hermione really did not like to see them putting Ron down like this. It was this kind of meanness that turned Ron against Harry the previous year.

"Ron is a great brother," she said sternly, "erm… I think he can do anything he puts his mind to."

Harry nodded, "and I'm no good for anyone who wants to lead a quiet life."

"Ah, no self-respecting Gryffindor would," said Fred, "isn't that right, girls?" The other four Gryffindor girls from Hermione's dorm were coming over to them, in their close knit little group as they usually were.

Hermione eyed Shirley warily, hoping that she had not overheard Fred and George. Shirley wore a rather nasty smile. The glimmering gem lights flickered over her pale face and glinted off her sleek black hair which rippled as she nodded; "you were talking about how you wish Harry were your little brother I suppose? Well I don't blame you, we all find him _interesting_. Poor Ron can't compete."

"Oh Shirley!" reproached Carly as Lavender and Parvati giggled. Ron had flushed a dull beet red. Carly and Hermione took him by the arms and hurried him into a corner behind the stalagmites.

"Are you OK?" whispered Carly. Ron nodded, his mouth tight shut. Hermione wished she had Carly's people skills. What was she supposed to say?

"The twins are really childish and Shirley is plain obnoxious," she hissed, not caring to beat about the bush. "Don't let them affect your confidence, do you understand?"

Ron shuffled his overlarge feet. "It's no wonder you both prefer Harry to me," he said, staring at the damp stone floor.

"Oh cheer up, Harry's your best friend and he thinks the world of you, but he barely noticed me when I had a crush on him," said Carly, reaching up to pat Ron's shoulder, "I think he thinks more of you than the twins, as well."

"You had a crush on him?" said Ron, smiling.

"Well I gave up on him ages ago, as did Elaine Summers…"

Hermione wasn't sure she was comfortable with the direction this was going for some reason.

"It was because in Gryffindor we like adventure and things seem to happen around Harry," she said, "but what does it matter that Harry is the centre of all events and has jet black hair, emerald green eyes, that oblique staring expression and fine features almost like his mother's?" Hermione realised her voice was becoming dreamy as she thought about Harry.

"Oh why don't you just go back to him Hermione? I'm sick of this stupid party, I'm off!" said Ron and he stomped off through the puddles.

"Ron!" called Hermione in dismay. Why did people have to get upset around her? She only ever wanted to help.

"Perhaps should have left it to me, Hermione?" said Carly with a somewhat sad smile.

Hermione felt her bottom lip tremble. "I want Harry," she said and hurried back across the dungeon, hot tears prickling the back of her eyes. At least Shirley hadn't seen that. This term was just getting too stressful too fast.

"Hey Hermione, what's wrong?" said Harry as she flung her arms around him. Shirley standing nearby grinned at the sight of the tears in her eyes, but Hermione didn't care. She hugged Harry to her, feeling his warmth and the softness of his messy hair against her cheek. She sniffled, aware that she was getting the shoulder of his robes damp.

"Probably that time of month," said Shirley and Lavender and Parvati giggled.

"There's some refreshments over there. Thoughtful of Ginny, wasn't it?" said Harry.

They linked arms and went over to a roughly hewn stone table in a corner of the cavern. There were bowls of crisps, peanuts, Bertie Botts every flavour beans and butterbeer, but Hermione also noticed a bottle of firewhisky and a bowl of thick, red liquid…

"Just pig's blood," said a voice by her ear.

Ginny had suddenly appeared, her freckled face right by Hermione's own. Hermione had never quite realised how beautiful she was. Her face was as perfect as any statues and it was the type of face that vibrant freckles seem to enhance, like the muggle model, Luca Hollestelle. Her skin seemed to give off an indefinable radiance. Her lips and nails were painted an identical, bright red.

"Hey Ginny," said Harry, "I'll pass on the pig's blood. Just butterbeer for me."

Ginny lifted a silver goblet from the table and dipped it into the bowl of blood and then slurped at it with every appearance of relish. "It's fresh. Still warm," she said, her brown eyes fixed on him with a strange intensity as she stared over the rim of her goblet. She set the goblet down. There were smears of blood around her mouth.

"What happened to you?" said Hermione. Less than two years ago you were squeamish because of Fred saying that Crookshanks ate Scabbers the rat when you didn't even know that it was really a wizard. If we were in a series of books that chronicled our schooldays year by year, I would accuse the writer of amazing ineptitude for giving you a completely different personality in the fifth year, unless there was a really compelling explanation."

"You know nothing about me Hermione," said Ginny with a tight lipped smile and a weird glint in her eye, "I'm going to do a dance for you all. Perhaps the boys will want to join in."

"What's got into her? Really, what could it be?" said Hermione.

"Beats me," said Harry shrugging, "isn't there any treacle tart?"

"Can't see any," said Hermione. "Harry, I think I upset Ron. Carly and I wanted to cheer him up, but I just can't do it like she does and now I just feel bad."

"Don't be. She's Carly and you're Hermione and Hermione is my valued friend who saved my life often enough," said Harry.

Hermione squeezed his hand.

Suddenly the table trembled and the bottles and plates clattered as the whole cavern shook. Hermione saw a fist of rock pushing through the rocky floor in the centre of the cavern. The gem light dimmed. Now only the red gems gave off any real light. The Ginny came gliding onto the newly formed rock, still in her tightly fitting dress that displayed the shape of her sinuous form and firm breasts.

Then her voice, magically magnified, made the cavern resound.

" **Greetings Gryffindors! Thank you for coming and proving that our clique at Hogwarts is the best. We will not let Umbridge tell us what to do. We can take this school back with our underground movement. I will be queen of the underworld. Now wait a moment and watch me dance."**

"Pretentious much?" muttered Hermione.

Neville sidled up to them. "That Ginny is quite something all of a sudden," he said. "She definitely wasn't like this at the Yule Ball. She wasn't even a pushy girl, but now look at her. I mean, she was always the best looking girl in the school I think… Lavender's the prettiest Gryffindor in our year, though Carly has the sweetest smile… no offense Hermione."

"None taken," said Hermione shrugging.

"But neither of them can compete with Ginny lookswise," Neville concluded. "Now she's got this attitude like she was possessed or something."

"What does any of that matter?" said Harry. "Really, Hermione is the only girl in our house I have time for and want to hang out with. She got me through the Triwizard Tournament and Ginny certainly didn't. It was Hermione who solved the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets and the Philosopher's Stone and she was the one by my side during our amazing adventures the summer before last. Her and no one else." Hermione felt a warm glow of pride. "I know I have a romantic interest in Cho, but the most erotic thought I've had about her is that her hair looks good with a blue ribbon – that's honestly an observation that a straight girl could have made about her…" said Harry.

Harry's green eyes had that misty look that he always had when deep in thought. So cute… Hermione was beginning to thrill about where his monologue was going. Could he be saying he liked her better than Cho?

But at that moment a weird, discordant chorus of wailing voices sounded around them – was it supposed to be music? And the dim red lights flickered. Ginny began to twirl and swirl around, her long red hair like dancing flames, contorting her limbs in astonishing positions. The Gryffindors gasped and muttered amongst themselves. Hermione supposed there was some sort of dancing charm that Ginny had researched.

Suddenly Ginny appeared right by them and bowled Neville over, pinning him to the ground, locking their lips together. Neville gasped with surprise as their lips broke apart.

"Not very alert, Neville, you do realise I could have had my way with you then if I had wanted." Ginny stood and glared at Harry. "Are you alert, Harry?"

Hermione stepped in front of Harry. "Harry has a friend who is always alert," she said coolly.

"I was talking about the Quidditch, I'll be applying this year so we Weasleys can run the team as we see fit," said Ginny. "I suppose Harry is the best player ever though. He excelled at it without ever having seen a broom before."

"You're going to be on the team?" asked Hermione.

"Oh don't talk about Quidditch, you'll only embarrass yourself," snapped Ginny. Hermione blinked. Ginny hadn't even used to like Quidditch. Why was she now taking this abrasive tone when talking about it?

"And don't you push Neville around like that or kiss him when he doesn't want it," Hermione replied, staring back at Ginny coldly.

"I don't mind, really," said Neville and he sidled quickly away.

"I remember any challenge," said Ginny, giving Hermione an icy stare and then she seemed to glide away, her black dress rustling as she did so. Well… what to make of that? Hermione decided to take Harry by the hand and slip off at that point.

* * *

It took days for Hermione to receive feedback from the schools she had sent off applications to and it was disheartening how much of a joke Hogwarts education was in the eyes of the rest of the magical world. It was obvious when you thought about it. Hogwarts education was almost entirely restricted to the practical application of magic. It totally disregarded maths, languages and the arts, not to mention science…

The only encouraging response Hermione received was from one headmistress, Heidi Roth, who had taken charge of the Fairy Tale Palace in the Black Forest. She seemed certain that Harry and Hermione could catch up if they put the effort in. Hermione was resolved to escape Hogwarts and Umbridge as soon as possible and sent a letter by a fast owl, seeking to arrange an interview with Frau Roth at the earliest possible date.


	3. Chapter 3

**Flights of Fancy**

Flying high in the sky, Harry was able to forget his troubles for a time at least. He easily outpaced the other Gryffindors, soaring high high high above the Quidditch pitch until Hogwarts, the grounds, the lake and the Forbidden Forest were as small as a postage stamp far below. At this altitude, the wind sung in his ears and the blasting cold was invigorating. None of the others had a firebolt. None of the others had a firebolt. None of them had ever been able to fly like he could. He was a natural born flier. He had been better than they were before he had even touched a broomstick.

No doubt they would complain about his showing off, but for the moment he needed to forget his troubles…

But then a shadow swooped down from even higher, way above him. It hurtled towards him like a missile. He tried to dodge it, but he couldn't outman over whatever it was. It kept changing direction to cut him off and then it flew up close. He gasped. It was Ginny. But she had no broomstick. She was flying through the air, her fiery hair blowing out behind her in the chill wind. She was wrapped in her ornate black dress, her pale arms bare. But she did not seem to feel the cold. Her burning eyes were fixed on him.

Her voice exploded in his mind. " _Dream! And memories will grip you with longing. Who do you see in me? What beautiful red headed girl is in your heart?"_

Harry's stomach lurched. Yes, there was a beautiful red headed girl locked in his heart. When he first saw the terrible Mirror of Erised, he had been tormented by the visions of his mother who was now beyond his reach. And Ginny did resemble Lily in that she was a beautiful red headed girl. In fact, Ginny was even more beautiful than Lily, comparable even to Cora Rothwell.

" _Look out behind you!"_ Ginny's voice sounded in his head again. Harry whipped round as the sound of terrible cackling cut through the freezing air. There was a terrible vision of a vile green old hag, with a great long green warty nose and chin and sunken staring eyes, filthy grey hair blowing about her. She was dressed in black rags. She swiped at him with long, filthy, claw like nails.

" _You never know when you may be attacked,"_ Ginny's voice came again. Harry was filled with fear of the hag and swerved behind Ginny. Ginny took out her wand and yelled. The hag shrieked and swooped away.

Harry decided to get back to the ground and plummeted to Earth again, breathless and cold.

Hermione had been standing on the pitch and hurried over to him. "Harry, are you OK?" she asked, putting her arms around him. "Oh Harry, you're cold and shaking. I was worried."

"Ginny rescued me from a terrible hag," said Harry. There was a cackling from nearby and the hag alighted beside them.

"That's Romilda Vane, playing a prank with an aging potion," said Hermione scornfully. "I don't like pranks at all. They're cruel in a 'who me? You've no sense of humour?' kind of way. Oh stop cackling and go and take the antidote, Romilda." The hag pointed at Harry and cackled. So it was just Romilda with an aging potion. If she lived long enough, she was going to become that hideous hag no matter what… She seemed remarkably cheerful considering she was destined for great ugliness.

"How would getting old make Romilda turn green?" asked Harry.

"Oh Harry," said Hermione, shaking her head at this new evidence of how incurious Harry was about everything around him, "it's a magical phenotype. You know how Ollivander and Madam Hooch have strange eyes? It's a side effect of magic in them. With very old witches and wizards, the magic in them can do funny things to the body. So can great magic power. Green is a very magical colour as it happens. The most powerful witches can go green without growing old.

Back in the Great Hall the familiar smells of good food met Harry and Hermione. Baked potatoes, roast beef, Yorkshire pudding…

He glared at Umbridge, who was glaring around the hall. Her horrible, pouchy eyes alighted on him and he hastily began to busy himself with his Yorkshire pudding.

Hermione was scanning the Daily Prophet. "It is best to know what the enemy is saying," she muttered. "But the Prophet really is a sleazy rag. It's the mouthpiece of the powers that be. No matter who they are..." She flipped the paper over. "No, nothing except the usual garbage."

"Hey look," said Ron, "there was something about an Auror catching a bloke who was arrogant enough to cheat in a muggle driving exam – he confunded the muggle examiner. And look at the name – he was a player on the Slytherin team during that match in third year. Remember how badly the Slytherins all cheated then. This Slytherin never changed."

"You're right, Ron mate," said Harry. "Well I'm glad the Aurors caught him. So arrogant. And see – he couldn't drive and his dangerous driving caused a crash. I'm glad that you would never ever confund a muggle examiner to cheat your way through a driving test."

"Absolutely not," said Ron, "and it's not OK if a Slytherin does it, is it?"

"But there's nothing of real interest in the paper," said Hermione dismissively, "Fudge is still leaning on the Prophet."

* * *

It was Monday again. Harry trudged wearily long the corridor, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Hermione linked her arm in his. "I'm sharing the burden with you, Harry dear," she said, "and we will leave soon. Hogwarts will be nothing, but bad memories. I think the feedback I received from Frau Roth of the Fairytale Palace has been very encouraging."

Harry thought for a moment. He hated how Umbridge had corrupted Hogwarts, but he was reluctant to leave… he thought of Ginny. A beautiful red headed girl certainly, but why would he want to stay around her. He remembered that time high in the air when she whispered to him about his dreams. Of course, he was feeling as though she were like his mother. Well that was weird and crazy. He mustn't let anyone know that. He stopped in the corridor for a moment as the other students trooped past.

"I don't think I can face Umbridge today," he said.

Hermione squeezed his arm sympathetically. A second year Gryffindor girl Harry didn't know came up to them. She had a snubbed nose, long reddish brown hair and grey-blue eyes.

"What is it, Demelza?" asked Hermione.

"I wanted to try out for a position on the Quidditch team, but Angelina was insistant on playing the old faces," said Demelza, "and she said she only tried for a new Keeper because Wood had left. I could be a brilliant Chaser though. Harry, could you put in a word for me?"

"I will, whoever you are," said Harry, who had never learned her name.

"Demelza," she said crossly.

"Come on Harry, only one last lesson from Umbridge, hopefully," said Hermione and headed off up the corridor. Harry was about to follow her, but Demelza gripped his arm. He was surprised by her strength. She was only about twelve and did not look strong.

"Don't let them play the old faces over and over again," said Demelza, her eyes wide. "Don't you think I deserve a try out?"

"You do," said Harry, trying to pull free of her grip.

"And am I pretty?" asked Demelza. Oh for goodness' sake, this was neurotic behaviour.

"Beauty is only skin deep," said Harry, "now I must be going."

"Skin deep?" said Demelza. She pulled at her face and there was a terrible ripping sound. Harry felt a surge of horror as she tore away the skin and flesh from her face in a bloody mess, leaving just a bare skull beneath, the unblinking eyes in the sockets all that was left alive.

Harry yelled and leapt back, crashing into a bust of Uric the Oddball, sending it crashing to the floor. The terrifying apparition of Demelza backed away into the wall and disappeared. A group of students came hurrying down the corridor. Hermione was in the lead, Shirley following closely behind.

"Why are you howling insanely, Harry?" asked Shirley, with a malicious grin.

"Harry are you OK?" asked Hermione.

"I just saw Demelza take her face off, there was only a skull left!" gibbered Harry.

The other students laughed and Shirley rolled her eyes.

"Hey Potter!" It was the voice of Draco Malfoy, "you've smashed the bust of Uric the Oddball. Umbridge will love that."

"Hem hem," came the dreaded voice of Umbridge, "why would you smash the bust, Potter?" Umbridge had appeared at his elbow.

"Demelza just tore off her face," gibbered Harry.

"Oh dear, you're still telling nasty, evil attention seeking stories," said Umbridge, brandishing the Blood Quill. "Well you know this means another detention."

"No, I don't think it does," said Hermione, "I believe Harry. We're leaving."

She took Harry's arm and they fled down the corridor. "Stop them!" shrieked Umbridge.

Hermione pulled Harry through a secret passage and up a hidden staircase that wound round and round towards the battlements. There way was lit by the ghostly light of glowstones. Harry yelled as he saw the hideous apparition of Demelza with a skull for a face again.

"Only a prank," said Demelza, "Ginny Weasley showed me this magic. I wonder where she learned it."

Hermione scowled. "Oh go and put yourself back together," she said. Harry was a bit embarrassed at having been taken in so thoroughly.

They reached a secret door and pushed it open. The late afternoon sun was warm and golden. Harry gave another start as he became aware of a tall witch standing beside them. He really was getting jumpier and jumpier with all the scares he was receiving.

He turned to look at the witch. She was robed in blue silk and she had long, auburn hair. But that was not the most remarkable thing about her. She had a bright green face. It was as though her face was coated in immaculate, thick green face paint. And her lips were a dark green, almost black.

"Is this another prank?" he said, tersely.

"Harry, hush, this is Frau Roth," murmured Hermione. The witch beamed.

"And you are dear Hermione," she said. Her accent did indeed sound German to Harry.

She turned to Harry, the waves of her long auburn hair rippled and bounced. "There's no reason to be afraid, Harry," she said, "she touched her green cheek. This is my real face. No prank. No trick." She had such bright green eyes. Just like his. Just like his mother's. Her face was bright green and longer than Lily's and she had a small cleft in her chin, but her features were as perfectly proportioned and her overall beauty just as striking. She gently touched his cheek and he felt the agitation he had been bothered by these past few weeks lessen.

"I understand the cruelty and injustice that goes on here, dear Harry," she said. Her eyes looked so sympathetic. Seized by a wild impulse he put his arms around her. She gently stroked his hair. Ginny had unsettled him by trying to dredge up memories of the Mirror of Erised. But this strange lady seemed a better mother substitute than Ginny could ever be.

There was a hubbub nearby as a crowd of Slytherins led by Umbridge came dashing along the battlements. Frau Roth held up a hand and they all came staggering to a halt.

"I will look after Harry and Hermione now," she said, her voice carrying clearly in the evening air. Her green eyes scanned Umbridge. "I will remember your crimes." Umbridge's sagging face turned a horrible, blotchy red, but Frau Roth did not seem to care. She put her right arm around Harry, her left around Hermione and suddenly they were whisked away in a whirl of colour and sound.


End file.
